


Cuffed

by QueerChronicles



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Getting Together, champ the chump - Freeform, drunk champ, eventual wayhaught, fed up nicole, waverly/champ unfortunately
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 04:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17739053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerChronicles/pseuds/QueerChronicles
Summary: It's been three days since Nicole got up the nerve to introduced herself to Waverly Earp at Shorty's Saloon. Since then she hasn't stopped thinking about her, but she's received nothing but radio silence from the beautiful barmaid. Waverly has every intention on using her number but is too busy getting caught up in the usual Earp shenanigans. What happens when a routine arrest on Nicole's night shift does the work for them?





	Cuffed

**Author's Note:**

> This is part one of a little one shot that came to me after I started imagining Nicole arresting Champ. I had to mess with the time line for it to work so I guess it's canon divergent? For the sake of the plot Nicole doesn't yet know that Champ is Waverly's boy-man. Plus I got to use my head canon that Nicole hates calling Champ by his nickname.

It's Nicole's very first night shift as a Purgatory deputy since she transferred from the city a couple weeks ago. So far, she's been stuck on days and in a town as small as Purgatory they usually go by about as slow as molasses. To ensure she can actually make it through her first night without dying of sheer boredom, she stops by the local coffee house for an extra-large cappuccino.

Once she collects her drink, she takes a few hefty mouthfuls on the way back to her cruiser. She immediately grimaces at the burnt taste, well at least it's better than the station’s coffee. Would it really break the bank to get a Keurig? Hopping into the cruiser and adjusting her Stetson so it sits perfectly atop her head, she places her coffee securely into the cupholder. A quick glance at the dashboard clock tells her it's 7:59pm. She reaches for the car radio, keeping an eye on the time as it flicks over to 8 o'clock on the dot. She holds the key with her thumb and waits for the static to fill the air before she speaks.

"Officer Haught here. 10-42." she signals the start of her twelve-hour shift. A moment later she receives a muffled "10-4" in response.

Knowing well that it's a Friday night and most folks will be out drinking, she decides to stay close to the center of town just in case anything pops off. She drives around for a bit but ends up settling down a side street. And boy is she glad she stayed close by. It isn't too long before she gets her first call of the night. The radio beeps "Officer Haught, we have a 10-10 at Shorty's Saloon. One individual injured. Please respond."

A bar fight, this early? She glances at the dash. It's only half past eight. Somebody must've gotten a head start.

"10-4 Susan, en route, ETA, five minutes." Haught quickly replies, flipping on her lights and pressing her foot down on the gas as she heads straight toward the center of town. She pulls up in front of the bar, lights still blinking as she throws it into park. The deputy radios in a quick 10-97 before hopping out of the cruiser to assess the situation at hand. She's immediately greeted by what appears to be a gruff looking bartender at the front entrance. He's using one hand to hold an old bar towel as a makeshift compress to his eye. He throws the other up in a huff.

"I cut'em off and the little bastard got a punch in," he grumbles.

He shakes his head. He seems a bit bothered but not angry per se. She quickly gives the street a scan. She doesn’t see hide nor hair of him around here.

"Just a second." she holds up a finger, motioning for a moment as she uses the other to activate the radio on her PPD vest. "Intoxicated male has fled the scene."

"I tried to get him to stay put but he insisted on gettin' outta here," He claims.

"He took the bottle with'em but don't worry. he's on foot. Figured he wouldn't have gotten far without these." He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a set of car keys. A satisfied grin appears on his face as he sinks into to a sitting position on the front steps. He grunts as he adjusts the rag on his newly forming black eye. "Normally I'd go after him myself, but I have customers here." He motions back towards the bar, music and chatter are coming from inside. Nicole can't help but wonder if Waverly might be working tonight. But she shakes off the thought. She can't be thinking about her right now. She needs to handle the situation at hand.

She shakes her head and takes a step towards Shorty, one hand on each side of her belt. "No need to apologize, Sir. It's standard operating procedure. Would you like me to request some medical assistance?" she asks, reaching again for her radio. But he puts a hand out to stop her.

"No, No need, Darlin. I've had much worse." Shorty rasps with a slight chuckle. "And I don't want to press any charges neither. Champ is a good boy. He just drank himself into a stupor. I just want to make sure the little pain in the ass is safe." He nods. Champ has always been sort of a dumbass, but Shorty has a soft spot for him. Mostly because of his ties to Waverly. Everybody in Purgatory loves Waverly.

"Sir-" she begins but Shorty is quick to interrupt.

"Shorty. Everybody in town calls me Shorty."

She gives him a polite smile and a nod. Shorty it is.

"Well Shorty, if you're certain then I won't book him on the assault charges. However, I will have to bring him in for public intoxication. I can't have him stumbling around town disturbing the peace." she explains

If there's one thing Nicole takes seriously it's the safety of those in Purgatory. Even if the only risk she's encountered so far is drunken town folk.

Shorty nods in agreement, pulling himself up to his feet with a labored sigh. "You've got a job to do, Officer. Just try to take it easy on him if you can. The only reason the poor bastard is drinkin' in the first place is cause he got his heart broken this afternoon. Sweet girl, with the patience of a saint putting up with him for as long as she did."

"And you called him Champ before? That's his real name?" she asks, refusing to believe anybody would actually name their child Champ.

"Oh, no, you'll have to forgive me. Small towns like this, everybody knows one another. His family name is James. Given name is Hardy but he's gone by Champ since he won his first rodeo." Shorty adjusts his compress and shifts his weight to the other foot. "Still a bit much if you ask me." He jokes, a crooked smile forming.

"Well, if you don't mind, I've got some business to attend to, but it was a pleasure to meet you Officer..." he pauses for a moment waiting for Nicole to fill in the blank for him.

"Haught" she answers, holding out her hand to shake his.

"Officer Haught," he shakes her hand and then turns to take a step closer to the door. Nicole heads toward the cruiser but hesitates and turns back before Shorty can make it inside.

"Oh, and Shorty?" She catches him halfway through the threshold. "Would you let Waverly know that I said ‘hello’." She says with a grin.

It was here at Shorty's about a week ago that she met Waverly Earp for the first time and she hasn't been able to get the girl off her head since. Nicole isn't one to normally go for the straight girl and Waverly made it pretty clear that she's in a relationship. But Nicole is also not one to give up. As she told Waverly that day, when she sees something she likes, she goes for it. And she certainly saw something in the waitress’s smile. Something definitely worth perusing.

Shorty gives her an affirmative nod and a knowing wink before he heads back inside the bar. Nicole walks back to the car and radios in. "Haught here confirmed 10-56. Last seen leaving Shorty's on foot, carrying an open container."

She flicks her lights off, pulls back onto the main road, and so her search begins. She thought she'd left drunken frat boys behind her when she left the big city, but evidently, they're everywhere. Especially in a town as small as Purgatory where drinking is the only source of entertainment for many. There's no way he could've gotten far in his current state. She circles the area and finds him in no time at all. He’s stumbling down a side street, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a box of random shit in the other. He's zigzagging across the road, stumbling with every step. She keeps her distance, driving slowly behind him to keep an eye. When he doesn’t seem to notice she grabs the radio to announce her presence over the speaker.

"Purgatory Sheriff's Department".

Disturbed by the sudden voice booming from behind him, Champ attempts to turn himself around to look over his shoulder. Unfortunately, he overcompensates and trips up over the curb. The box and bottle he was carrying both go flying along with him. The bottle smashes against the ground leaving shattered glass sprayed across the asphalt. His reflexes are slow, and he just barely gets his arm out to prevent his head from hitting the pavement. God, he is one lucky idiot. I guess that takes care of the open container situation. The deputy throws the car into park, hops out and makes her way towards him.

"Mr. James?" Nicole calls out as she rounds the front of the cruiser. The familiar scent of Jack Daniel's smacks her in the face as she approaches him. Ugh, smells like college.

He shakes his head with an aggressive back and forth motion. "No-no-no, that's my dad." He whines with a clumsy wave of his hand.

He attempts to push himself up but fails, flopping back on the ground, still surrounded by all of his belongings. They're scattered around him, having flung out of the box when he fell. On the bright side, it doesn't look like he'll be putting up much of a fight.

"Boy, what's your name?" she asks, even though she's pretty confident this is in fact good ole Champ. Her hands now at her hips as she stands over him. He manages to roll himself over so he's on his back, elbows leaning against the curb.

"Champ." He confirms proudly with a goofy grin. "As in Rodeo Champ-ion." He adds a double raise of the eyebrow as if it's supposed to impress. Surprisingly it fails.

"Ah. We have a winner. I've heard a lot about you." Nicole reaches a hand out to help him get to his feet, which is no simple task. Once he's finally standing on his own accord, Nicole gives him a quick once over and brushes off any stray bits of glass he's gotten on him from the fall.

"Now Mr. Jam-" she begins

He's quick to correct her with a gurgled "Ch-aam-Puh".

She rolls her eyes, pinching her nose for a moment. She takes a breath before she tries again, forgoing his name altogether this time.

"Listen, we have a problem here. Not only are you not supposed to be out on the street with an open bottle, especially one that you stole," She shakes her head at the fact she has to actually explain this to him. "But you were also reported as committing an assault and fled the scene of the crime," she adds.

She knows he won't be charged for the assault but it's fun to make him squirm a little. Maybe next time he'll think twice about getting drunk and raising hell. That's what he gets for filling her night up with a shit-ton of paperwork. It doesn’t go quite as planned. That's when the waterworks start. Champ is completely unintelligible now between the tears and the effects of the alcohol. He begs her to speak to Shorty. "He knows me, Shorty knows me." He repeats. "I can't go to prison. I'm too pretty for prison."

W-o-w. Nicole can't help but cover up a snicker.

The redhead takes a breath and decides to defuse the situation before he gets hysterical on her.

"Mr. James, you can relax. I'm not arresting you for the assault. I already spoke to Shorty and he doesn't want to press charges. But I'm still bringing you in. That way you sober up without hurtin' anybody else. Including yourself." she explains calmly.

He grumbles that he's already been hurt. Nicole gives him a sympathetic pat on the back. "Let's get you packed up."

She bends down and starts to help him pick up his belongings. He's not much help, every time he bends to retrieve something, he almost loses his balance and she has to stop him from falling over again. The poor kid is in a state. It takes way longer than it should, but they eventually get the box packed up again.

"Must've been some girl, eh?" the deputy reaches for the handcuffs at her hip. He just groans in reply.

"Alrighty," She whirls her finger in a circular motion. Signaling for Champ to turn.

"Turn around and put your hands on the hood." She instructs, her tone is a bit firmer now.

He slumps against the hood of the car, barely holding himself up.

She reaches for one of his hands and prepares herself to give him the usual spiel.  
"I'm placing you under arrest for public intoxication," she begins with a click of the cuff around his wrist. "You have the right to remain silent." She can only hope.

"For both our sakes, please use it." She adds.

She reaches for his other hand, pushing his chest against the hood of the car as she secures the second cuff. Once he's cuffed, she pulls him back up into a standing position, holding him up by his belt as he rocks back and forth.

"Uh-huh." He nods. It's the first smart choice he's made tonight.

"Alrighty... _Champ_." she says in a tone dripping with sarcasm "Let's go."

The officer leads Champ towards the squad car, opening the door for him and pushing down on his head slightly to make sure he doesn't bump it while getting inside.  
She closes the door after him and heads back over to grab the box full of his things. She returns to the car and puts the box in the passenger's seat before getting in herself. She looks behind her and sees he's already managed to pass out with his head slumped against the window and... is that drool? What's this guy's story anyway? Rodeo Champ eh? She looks over at the box to find there are actually a couple winning ribbons in there, along with some studded jeans and more than his share of hair products. Seems about right. She shifts the car out of park and pulls back onto the road. She reaches for her radio, "Intoxicated individual in custody, dropping him at the station."

It's a short ride back. Nicole pulls around back and parks in her spot. One of the few perks of small-town departments, you get your own parking.

"Alrighty, James. We're here." She announces. When she gets no answer, she angels her mirror so she can get a view into the backseat. Champ is still in a dead sleep. How is he even comfortable like that? She clears her throat and watches him to see if he stirs. No luck. She sighs and repeats herself, this time using a louder voice. "Mr. James." Nothing but a louder snore in response. Goddamn, this boy.

The redhead steps out of the cruiser and unceremoniously slams the door behind her, jolting him awake and into a sitting position. He's groggy and disoriented but at least he's mostly conscious.

"Oops," she says to herself with an amused smile.

Champ looks around quickly trying to get his bearings. He tugs at his wrists in the cuffs behind him and groans to himself "not again." She opens his door next and he looks up at her. "Ugh, you again?" he complains going to flop back onto the cruisers back seat, but Nicole quickly catches him by his button up.

"Me again." She confirms "And I am just as excited to see you, buddy."

Nicole hauls him inside and pawns him off to Lonnie to bring into the drunk tank. She can't be bothered to babysit all night, she has enough paperwork to do and she's had enough of Champ for a lifetime.

It's quiet for a while and Nicole even manages to get some work done, but soon Lonnie emerges from down the hall.

"Hey, Haught. Ah-the kids awake, and he keeps going on about a phone call. He gets one of those, right?"

The quicker he's somebody else's problem the better. But she knows she can't let him go like this.

"Yes, Lonnie." She tries not to sound as fed up as she actually is. "He gets a phone call. But no bail for drunks. They stay until they're not." She explains what the other officer should already know. How is it that she's the only besides Nedley who knows the protocol around here? She glances back down at her desk

"And why am I holding a missing person report with the word ‘person' scratched out and ‘pug' written above?" She holds up said report.

"Mrs. Grandeur's dog disappeared." He rubs the back of his neck.

Nicole just sighs and sifts through the neatly displayed array of folders on the desk.

"I don't know why anybody would keep a dog in Purgatory, though. What, with all those coyotes." He comments.

"Coyotes. _Right._ " She nods. "Lonnie, we have forms for missing animals right here." She grabs the correct file "You really gotta pay more attention." She huffs tossing the folder onto the corner of the desk closest to where he stands. Somehow, she's teaching him despite her being here all of a week.

He accepts the folder and heads back down the hall to let Champ have his phone call. Unlikely anybody is rushing here to get him. She knows she has to follow protocol and keep him here until he's sobered up, but she can't wait to get him off of her hands. She already had to deal with that party bus full of frat boys passing through town yesterday morning. She's had her fill with drunks this week.

Lonnie is back a few minutes later.

"He said something about his girlfriend coming to pick him up after work, but it'll be at least a few hours. She did _not_ seem happy about it." he resumes his place at the front desk.

"Huh, the ex is coming? That should be interesting." She murmurs, getting back to her endless stack of paperwork. She glances at the desk clock and sees it's only barely 11. Guess it's time for another cup of coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time posting so all feedback is welcome! Lemme know what you think. If you like it I'll post part two!


End file.
